Blog

Recommendations, Recovery

When you want something gripping

thereadtorecovery

I am a massive fan of psychological thrillers, whodunnits, the kind of books that people spoil for you at their peril. I yearn for books that wake me up by falling on my face because I haven’t been able to put them down at a sensible hour, that have that all important ‘twist’ that I never saw coming. Clearly, one person’s obvious ending is different from another’s – my husband has an irritating ability to guess the end of stories which mystified me throughout (Broadchurch was particularly annoying). Usually I get it wrong, or only get it partially right (guessing twist one but not twist two, or guessing the perp but not for the right reasons…) and I like this – I want to be blindly led through a story that someone else has dreamed up in the way they intended and be surprised at the right moments. Being able to see what’s coming gives me the same (incorrect) sense that I could have done a better job, much like when I watch a disappointing tennis match.

When a genre becomes super popular and everyone wants to write the next big hitter, there are a lot of casualties along the way – books that are alright (or just bad), twists you do see coming, or ones that you don’t because they are so ridiculous and over-dramatic that you feel cheated. There are so many “GRIPPING PSYCHOLOGICAL THRILLERS!!!” listed on my Kindle now that I don’t know how to sift out the gold, and heavily rely on recommendations from friends and trusted podcasts. So, here are a few of my favourites that I’ve read recently (in no particular order):

The Woman in the Window by A.J Finn: I know everyone bangs on about twists but this one really is very good. I won’t give anything away. As a psychologist I really enjoyed the portrayal of the issues in this book, and thought it would make a great film. Luckily I’m not the only one, and the adaptation is due to be released autumn 2019.

The Good Samaritan by John Marrs: Every chapter has a little something that makes you need to carry on. You know from the beginning who’s done it, and what it is they’ve done, so you’re just anxiously waiting for others to work it out. I wanted the perpetrator to get her comeuppance but felt strangely disloyal in doing so… read it to find out why!

Th1rt3en by Steve Cavanagh: Oh my goodness I loved this. It was a bit more fast-paced and action-y than most of the books I read and I was gripped on every page. This is another where you know whodunnit, but you also don’t… I haven’t read any of his other books, though I have just downloaded one so watch this space…

Try not to breathe by Holly Seddon: I saved this up for a train journey and devoured it, one of those just-what-I-need moments. A journalist is trying to solve a historic(ish!) crime; the story is great, but what I really liked about this book is the way the main character’s own issues were portrayed. So often characters are given problems for the sake of it, an attempt to round them out and make them more believable, but with absolutely no depth. A little pop psychology and over-dramatics can make for a very frustrating read. Luckily, the extra character development in Try not to breath is interesting, makes sense, and made me care more – which I think is supposed to be the point.

The Good Girl by Mary Kubica: I feel like if I share anything about why I loved this book so much it’ll give something away. I knew nothing about it before I picked it up and I think that’s best – so just to give you what you’d get from the blurb: girl is followed, goes home with the guy, kidnapped, big drama.

Dear Amy by Helen Callaghan: This was a book I had to take to the loo with me because I could not put it down. This is one of very few books where I could just see the twist coming, but if anything that just added to the suspense, and it is very clever so I felt quite pleased with myself. It is a fantastic read and discovering she has a second book out (Everything is lies) has made me incredibly happy.

The Truth About the Harry Quebert Affair by Joël Dicker: This is a 600 page book that I wish was longer. I was bereft when I finished it. It hooks you in a subtle, understated way compared to a lot of mysteries and the writing is beautiful. It took no time at all to get into and every minute I had to devote to it was a joy. The premise is that a young writer desperately trying to prove he isn’t a one-hit-wonder seeks help from his college mentor, only to find himself tangled in a 30-year-old mystery when a body is discovered in the town. I also read this over Christmas when I was feeling not at all well and was struggling to concentrate or have the energy for anything much – it was the perfect book to get me back into anything other than sleeping and I’ll always remember and be grateful for the role it played in this most recent recovery.

What are some of your favourite thrillers? I eagerly await some new recommendations.

Confidence, Emotional, Physical, Recovery, Surgery

Getting out of the house – libraries to the rescue

thereadtorecovery

Recovering from surgery sucks for several reasons – one of the things I found hardest was my inability to move much and do things for myself. I had a brief window into what it must be like to lose your independence and have to rely on others for the simplest things that before I’d very much taken for granted. For the first few days I couldn’t walk far, so leaving the house at all didn’t happen much. After that, I couldn’t drive for a while so was limited to a local walk. Personally, I struggle to just go out for a wander, I want a purpose to my outings. So I went to the library. I took my time looking at shelves I wouldn’t normally when I’m doing a quick fiction pick-up, and searched for books on my husband’s TBR list as well, enjoying the feeling of being able to something useful for someone else.

After a few weeks I had two days off in between jobs – and was now able to drive! My husband was at work and I was slightly sick of my own company by this point, so having a couple of days “to myself” wasn’t as appealing as it would otherwise have been. I’d spent enough time on my sofa to last a lifetime, and desperately wanted to feel like I was doing something productive (but I didn’t want to clean the house or anything…). I had a few ideas but they were all house-based and I really wanted to get some fresh air. You know that feeling when your skin starts to tell you you’ve been inside for too long? Yeah, that.

Luckily, about a year before, I had decided to set myself the challenge of visiting all the libraries in Oxfordshire. It neatly coincided with me buying my first bullet journal, so I created a lovely little library-bingo sheet for myself, and ticked off the two I’d been to so far. I love libraries. I know they tend to be very similar, especially ones within a county, but look a little closer and you’ll see the care that the staff have put into creating their displays – contributions from local children doing their summer reading challenge, staff reading recommendations etc – that are unique at each location. And if you’re around at the right times, you’ll glimpse some of the activities and groups they run, from crossword clubs to story and rhyme sessions. Libraries are just such wonderful places to be, why wouldn’t I want to see them all?

After charting a course of libraries in close proximity, I set off and visited six libraries, settling into a nearby cafe each day to refuel. I set myself a flexible rule that I would borrow a book from each library and was prepared to waive it given the size of my reading pile, but there was a must-read in each one. It was the perfect outing; libraries are calm, quiet places, but there’s always a bit of activity – there were staff processing new books, retirees reading the papers, a father reading quietly to his captivated little girl, and a man who visits the library regularly to find someone to talk to. I wasn’t in a rush so really took my time, and ended up having conversations with the staff about my quest, which made me realise that I used to often talk about what I was borrowing with someone but self-service machines – although brilliant – have removed this part of the experience. I also discovered that my book limit was not 12 as I had thought, but 20. Best. News.

I was able to leave the house, get some fresh air, do something I enjoyed, feel productive, and discover new places. It also felt comfortable, familiar, do-able, and I could interact with people if I wanted to – but I didn’t have to. Going a little further afield to towns and cafes I don’t usually frequent also meant I was unlikely to run into people I knew, which I really needed at this stage when I was still finding socialising a little anxiety provoking, not knowing how to talk about my recent experiences or even whether I wanted people to know. Chit-chat with people I didn’t know eased me back in.

When I got home the fun continued; one of the things that has always given me a disproportionate amount of joy is deciding the order in which I’m going to read my library books, and piling them up accordingly (I don’t always stick to the order, but that doesn’t really matter). I try to make sure I mix up the thrillers and more light-hearted books, the long and the quick reads, and scatter the ones I think I’ll enjoy most throughout. It always reminds me of doing the same when I was younger with a sizable pile constantly on the corner of my desk and thought I was Matilda.

After these two days I felt all kinds of things I hadn’t felt since before the surgery – productive, useful, content, excited, strong, hopeful… and, aptly given one of my borrows, that I was still me. I’m very grateful to all the libraries who were part of it, even though they didn’t know. I’d like to give a particular shout-out to Benson library who had the most friendly staff I’ve ever encountered, and the Busy Brush Cafe in Wallingford for being lovely and providing amazing coffee.

Go and try a different library than your usual. Let me know what you think.

IMG_20180928_144112_680

Emotional, Physical, Recovery, Surgery

When reading is all you’ve got

thereadtorecovery

It’s taken me longer than I thought it would to post this. I spoke out more about my miscarriage during Baby Loss Awareness Week and planned to post this as part of that, but discovered that a few tweets and conversations were more emotionally draining than I’d anticipated. I’ve had a week away from it all and realised how important it is to pace yourself emotionally, even after you think you’re starting to do better. Lighting a candle for my baby and watching it flicker with my husband brought out tears that had been hiding so that I could function at work and with my friends again, and reminded me that I’ll still need to cry sometimes.

My experience of miscarriage is what inspired me to start this blog. Walking back from the library one day, listening to a podcast about books, I realised how much reading had helped me to get back on my feet. It’s helped in many ways, and I’m sure that there are many more ways it has helped other people in other situations, and as always I’d love to hear about them if you’d like to share them. For now, I’d like to tell you about the first book I read after my loss – I didn’t read anything for a week, and then I found myself in hospital having what I’ve called ‘surprise surgery’. My husband just had enough time to nip home, grab some essentials, and come to the hospital before I was taken down. He brought my contact lens solution and pot, anticipating I’d need to take them out, a cuddly toy to keep me company, and my Kindle. I was told I’d probably go home the same day so didn’t think I’d need it, but when I woke up they said I’d be in overnight and so the following day I found myself in bed for the best part of 9 hours, unable to move without help, and with only a stuffed penguin and about 98 e-books for company.

It often seems that if you only have one option, no matter how attractive that option would be if surrounded by others, it suddenly becomes undesirable. Maybe it’s because our brains find variety attractive or maybe we just don’t like being told what to do. In my case, I knew there was a good chance I would struggle to find reading as entertaining as usual. Obviously with an e-reader you do have choice, and I always have an embarrassing number of unread books on mine which I will probably never get through…

Pro: You can start reading one book, discover that you don’t like it/you’re not in the mood for this right now, and there’s another one waiting.
Con: Sometimes you can’t cope with that much choice – choice overload is a concept which I’m sure you’ll all recognise, but sometimes what counts as an ‘overload’ for us is less than we would normally be able to deal with.

On this occasion, I definitely wasn’t in the mood to make a decision. I was still a bit dopey from the general anaesthetic and pain meds, I hadn’t moved other than to be escorted to the toilet for 24 hours and was starting to feel cabin feverish, I ached like hell and I was feeling very sorry for myself. At that moment I needed to be about 1/3 of the way into a book I was enjoying and knew I wanted to get back to. No such luck – I’d just finished a ‘real’ book. Sometimes I have a book that I’ve really been looking forward to reading, but I’ve been saving it for a long journey or forced myself to wait until I’ve finished my library pile. On this occasion, I had let a bit of a backlog of these build up, so didn’t have my obvious one to turn to.

It took me around 15 minutes of flicking through my library, trying to work out what kind of mood I was in, but eventually I landed on In the Dark by Cara Hunter. I’d read her first one, Close to Home, a few months earlier and found it unputdownable. One of the reasons why didn’t really hit me until I started In the Dark – there are no chapters. This I realised when I looked at the menu and it told me I had 5 hours until the end of the chapter. There are section breaks, and it switches between first and third person so it doesn’t feel like an endless ramble; it hooks you in and then carries you until you’re lost in the narrative. This was what I needed for the obvious reason – it completely distracted me. Other than brief bathroom breaks and having to have my obs done (and reassuring the nurses that my blood pressure is always low so no you don’t need to worry about that), I didn’t stop until I knew whodunnit. But I think Cara’s books would be good for others in this early recovery phase because you don’t know how much you will want – or be able – to read. Books with long chapters can feel like a slog because often you want to get to a ‘good’ stopping point but you’re getting tired; or you may want to read a bit more but not want to commit to a whole other chapter. Conversely, I personally find books with short chapters very frustrating when I’m reading for long periods of time because it can feel like you’re always stop-starting. With In the Dark, I felt like whenever I wanted to stop, a sensible pausing point wouldn’t be far off.

Obviously the content of books when you’re going through something difficult can matter hugely – this was nothing to do with what I was going through, and I think that’s what I needed then. I’ve since been able to read books with more triggering storylines, and have sought out books and blogposts written by women who have had similar experiences. What we need, and how ready we feel to process our experiences, changes throughout recovery, and I think being aware of this before you choose a book can help. I appreciate that not everyone would want a thriller, or something where it feels important to remember little details along the way, and I’d love to hear what other people’s first book back after a difficult time has been.

Summary of why this book was part of my recovery:
– It got me reading again
– It distracted me
– It was gripping enough to keep my interest but not so involved that it used too much brain power
– It flowed with sections the right length to put down and carry on whenever I needed to
– I had the satisfaction of reading a book in a day
– I realised at the end that I was looking forward to her next one – and starting to look forward to things again is so important
These books are a series following the same police department, so I would recommend reading them in order if you don’t want mini-spoilers, but the cases are unrelated (much like Sophie Hannah’s Waterhouse & Zailer series). The third book, No Way Out, will be out in 2019.

Childhood, Self-esteem

Matilda and me

thereadtorecovery

Matilda was my favourite character when I was growing up – she still might be. I remember adoring this book from page one, and – anyone who knows me now will be shocked to hear this because I’m renowned for keeping my books in pristine condition – I read it so many times that the book fell apart. However, I didn’t realise until this year that she was introduced to the world just a few days before I was. As we both turn 30, I wanted to think about how this book influenced me, and hear from others about the characters that had a big impact on them.

I would have loved reading without Matilda – I had read many books by the time I found her, including The BFG which was my way-in to the wonderful world of Roald Dahl. When I started school my teacher apparently nodded in a “we’ll see” kind of way when my parents told her I could read, but when she discovered that this was, in fact, true (and probably that it was the best – or only – way to keep me quiet) I soon became the little book monster, devouring anything I was given. But before Matilda, I have no memories of going to the library. I know that I did, because when I read Matilda I already had a library card, but my earliest memories of the library are with her in mind – the wonder of walking into a room that had so many books, taking out as many as I could, making difficult decisions about which to take and which to leave behind. When I was about 11 our local library closed for a refurbishment – and a restock. When it reopened I took out the maximum 6 books on my own card, 6 on my brother’s, and 12 on my mum’s (dad must not have had a card otherwise I would have had 12 more). I made a ‘den’ under my loft bed, made the all-important decision about order of reading, and pretended I was Matilda until school started a couple of weeks later. Looking back, I think I half-pretend-played that I was Matilda, and half that she was my friend, wondering whether she would have borrowed the same books as me (I’m sure she would have loved The Babysitters Club…) and thinking that if she did come to my school we could ask her to come and live with us.

In her early life, Matilda was different from the people around her, and who she was was not encouraged. Thankfully I did not have that experience. But I have experienced times when I’ve felt that I’m not who people want me to be, and when I’ve been very lonely. One example that has stuck with me: two or three times when I was 9-10 years old, my friends suddenly fell out with me and I didn’t know why. I just turned up at school one morning and no one was talking to me. By this stage everyone has their set groups of friends and whilst the advice given to me was to “find someone else to play with”, that’s easier said than done when you feel like no one likes you. I have no idea how long this went on for before they (equally spontaneously) started talking to me again – at the time it felt like forever, it may have only been a week. But it had a lasting impact on how I think other people see me, and I’ve often felt like I have to earn people’s time and affection when I don’t – something I’ve been able to reflect on during my psychology training. Even though these kind of experiences (as well as far worse ones I know I’ve been lucky enough not to live through personally) can make you feel that you aren’t good enough, I had messages from other places telling me I was. My parents, my faith, my teachers, and some of my books. What children are told from a young age is so important, and most of the time we don’t remember being explicitly told it. I don’t know how much of an impact Matilda actually had on me in amongst everything else, but I do know that I would recommend it to any child in a heartbeat in the hope that from it they would hear this: be who you are, and make use of your gifts. No one else is quite like you, and you are so special.

Recovery

Day 1

thereadtorecovery

Day 1 is hard. The first day after something has happened, when you’re not just reacting to a situation as it unfolds, when you realise that life goes on around you and you are expected to start returning to some sort of “normal”. At this point you can have no idea what your recovery will look like or how long it might take – it can feel like there is a very long road ahead, or that you’d give anything to be on a road of any kind but right now you’re in a hole somewhere and don’t know how to get out.

The day I got home from hospital was harder than the day of my operation. Being in hospital sucked, but I was fully expected to focus on myself and what I had been through, to use the call button to ask someone to help me move or to give me more pain medication, and all the staff talked to me about was my blood pressure, my wounds, my discharge plan. Not having to think about anything – or anyone – else for a while was nice. I expected that when I stepped through my front door I would feel relief, but instead I was annoyed that everything was just the same as when I left; I didn’t feel the same. How was I supposed to sit on the sofa and watch TV with my husband just like we had before all this had happened? How was I supposed to do things which no longer felt interesting or important? I was irritable and snappy and my husband, who had been the calm one through it all so far, broke down in tears and said he was so scared that this would change us as a couple. We realised that we had both expected returning home to be the end of this awful journey, when in fact it was the start of a rough recovery – physically, for me, but emotionally for both of us. I so desperately wanted to feel differently from how I did right then, and had no idea how to make that happen.

I have been so blessed with friends and family who gave me time and didn’t expect me to be fine after a few days, who said “I’m so sorry, this must be so hard” rather than giving advice, who brought meals and sat with me for as long as I felt able to have company, who let me know that I wasn’t alone. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve also had to deal with people saying some pretty insensitive things or trying to make me see the silver lining they think they’ve found, but overall I have received amazing support.

So where does reading fit in? I’ve always loved to read, it has always been a joy and a comfort to me, but this new experience has got me thinking about why this is in a different way. Whether it be the act of reading that helps stimulate a bored brain, being able to escape into someone else’s world, or being able to discuss your favourite reads with others to feel connected again, books can help us in so many ways. I want to share my experiences of how reading has helped me, hear from others about their experiences, and share book recommendations because readers love growing their TBR pile. Whether it was the content of a book that really spoke to you in a difficult time, or a book that was nothing to do with your circumstances but was just the right mix of whatever to give you some enjoyment, I would love to hear how reading has been a part of your recoveries.

Day 1 of starting this blog is hard. I don’t know how it will feel to share my experiences, or whether anyone else will be interested in or comforted by what I have to say. But I am hopeful that it won’t be something I do alone. When I signed up for this blog, the front page template provides you with suggested titles, quotes, pictures etc. which I’m sure 99% of people replace immediately – however, this one seems apt. Good company has made my journey bearable, and that includes authors and fictional companions.

Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton

post